How to Save a Life
by Kcx
Summary: Sequel to Breakaway. When Ironhide ends up in the med bay with serious injuries, Ratchet wonders if he could ever cope with not telling 'Hide of his true feelings if he ever off lined. Ratch'x'Hide. Rated T for safety.
1. Part One

Out of all mechs, Ratchet never wanted it to be _this_ mech. He always knew that this would happen, knew that something bad would happen to him because he was a front liner. But he never thought that it would be _this_ bad. It nearly broke his spark, seeing his "crush" like this; there was a good reason to it, Optimus tried to explain, however the medic wouldn't take it; saying that unless you had a problem FirstAid, Perceptor, Jetfire, or Wheeljack couldn't fix - even with combined forces - that you were not allowed in his med bay. This was urgent, and he didn't want any distractions. However, the sight that lay before him was more of a distraction than ever.

Ironhide lay motionless on the med berth, practically covered in Engergon. His chassis was near torn open, safe the protective cover that was supposed to withstand just about anything. Any longer and with any more brute force, and who ever was trying to kill him would have gotten right to his spark in a manner of klicks and done so. His left arm and his right leg from the knee down were pretty much hanging by very thin wires. His right side starting from the top of his "rib cage" al the way down to a little past his hip was torn open, however it was thank Primus that Energon had stopped leaking from that area. And of course, several gashes everywhere on his body from where he had gotten hit from the blast Optimus said he took for him. Primus, Ironhide sure as the Pit could do some stupid things, but he had never come so close as to taking his own life.

Ratchet honestly thought that, because of the feelings he had towards Ironhide, and his current condition, that he would be unable to fully help the mech and would end up letting him die. But it was quite the opposite; Ratchet didn't know how long he worked, hooking up an Energon line to him. He had subconsciously remembered that people - he couldn't recall nor realize who they were - were constantly coming in and telling him to slow down and take a break, however Ratchet refused to; saying that the next person to come in and tell him that would have a bomb to the head of the next person that so much of _thought_ of coming in here to tell him that. Soon everyone stopping coming all together, minus FirstAid - he guessed that it was him - coming in and grabbing stuff to work on people in Wheeljack's lab. Which was fine by Ratchet; his "intern" never bothered him when he did so.

So long after starting, Ratchet was nearly done; a lot of the major cuts and openings that Ironhide had originally had were now stitched up, leaving only a few small scratches and gouges that they themselves were already healing because of Ironhide's own systems. Ratchet couldn't dent that he was _exhausted, however had been unable to give up due to the fact that he didn't want Ironhide to die. Being a medic, it was so hard to let people die, because in the current war, a lot of your friends died and it was hard to cope with. Sometimes he felt like no one understood his job; it seemed harder than even the Prime's, having to let people die because you couldn't save them. It was so depressing; it was a wonder Ratchet hadn't offlined himself yet._

"_Ratchet, are you alright?" came a voice from behind; Ratchet barely had time to register that he had managed to pretty much collapse in a chair nearby Ironhide's berth before making it swivel around to face who had spoke to him. FirstAid stood, looking nervous, a few DataPads in hand and up as if any moment the CMO would suddenly attack him. Ratchet tried to smile at that thought._

"_Yes, yes, I'm alright," Ratchet said as he leaned back in the chair, realizing how hoarse his voice had sounded. How long had he been at work again?_

"_I-I know the others have been telling you this," stuttered out the intern medic, taking a brave step forward, "b-but you really can't keep working on Ironhide with so little recharge. You know Wheejack will come over if something goes wrong. Plus, you've fixed all of his major injuries already, right? So you shouldn't have anything to worry about, right?" _

_Ratchet thought for a moment, and almost wanted to grab the nearest wrench and throw it at his unsuspecting friend, however he had to admit that he felt too tired to. And, although he didn't trust Wheeljack with helping fix up stuff because he often blow up anything he touched, he knew that 'Jack would wake up if he heard Ironhide's monitor's go off. He was right next door, after all. Giving a defeated sigh, Ratchet nodded._

"_Alright, alright, I will," he said, weakfuly standing on his peds. "But if anyone needs to come in here-"_

"_Have them come to myself, Wheeljack, Perceptor or Jetfire, unless we together cannot fix the problem, then we'll call you," FirstAid said, which Ratchet thought he remembered by heart; he didn't want to put it against him._

"_Thanks, Aid," Ratchet thanked, smiling._

"_Oh, no problem, boss," Aid replied happily, turning to leave. "I'll bring you a cube of Engergon when I'm done with Sunny, alright? Got his arm torn off by Skywarp again." _

_Ratchet gave a groan of displeasure at the thought of Sunny tearing his arm off again, and later the medic having fix it. FirstAid heard this just as he made his exit out of the med bay, and gave a hearty laugh as he walked out, the doors sliding shut behind him. FirstAid was a good kid, Ratchet knew; a little shy and sometimes a little scared when it actually came to working like Ratchet did on terribly injured patients - especially those who are close friends - and a few dying on him occasionally. But there was one thing good about 'Aid that no one could deny; he had a big spark. It had probably been his mission to come in and check on his teacher after a while of being in there, to make sure that he went into recharge for a little while, which Ratchet would. Sometimes, he could never see how Mirage ever dated him, yet the two were still a couple, no matter how much they went through. First Aid was an honest mech, and almost a gullible one as well._

_Ratchet was a good liar, he had to give himself that; before he went to his office to lay down on his personal berth, he pushed the chair he was sitting in over to the berth that Ironhide lay on, wanting to check him over. The big brute was still fast asleep due to the anesthetics and his own stasis lock kicking on before he got back to base, which was a good thing; Ratchet didn't want a yelling, trashing, injured bot in his med bay while he tried to work on him. Therefore, Ratchet had made sure that he would stay in it long enough for him to finish his work; he was planning on taking off the anesthetics in the morning, and let them slowly wear off so his natural hardware and repairing systems kick him. So the medic had slowly downed the dose little by little, still giving him enough to stay asleep through the night._

_Speaking of sleep, as Ratchet slowly finished checking up on the medical-induced stasis, he didn't realize that he himself was slowly drifting off into sleep himself. For a moment he realized that he was not going to make it to his berth, and as he was almost done, he thought to himself that it would be fine to just rest there a moment and then try to stand up and go to berth. Gently he laid his helm right next to Ironhide's resting arm and servo, Ratchet putting his own arms under his helm to try and get comfortable. He was going to rest his helm for only a little while, however he didn't realize that he had completely fallen into a deep recharge until it was too late; then there was no going back._


	2. Part Two

Ratchet awoke to something moving. Groggily, his systems began to slowly wake up from his recharge, information flooding through him. He realized that he was still in the med bay; however he could not recall where he had fallen asleep, knowing that his body aching meant that he never made it to his own berth that night to where he could get comfortable. After a moment, the movements began again, and he quickly realized that they were not his. Slowly his body began to warm up, and he was about to try to wake himself up fully, but not before a servo gently touched the back of his helm, as if it would help in trying to stir him into the world of the waking.

"Ratchet?" came a hoarse voice that the medic realized was not far away. "Ratch', yew awake? 'M sure tha' sleepin' on ah berth like this won't be too good fer ya."

Instantly the CMO recognized this voice as the weapons speaclist that he had worked so hard in trying to save. His own internal clock said that it had only been a few Earth hours since he had fallen asleep, however he was wide awake when he realized who it was who was trying to wake him up. Taking a deep breath and on lining his optics, Ratchet sat up and tried to stretch, joints popping instantly as he did so. And for a moment, Ratchet could have sworn that he had never felt so happy in his life.

Ironhide stared drowsily up at the medic, however still held the face that he had made when the old medic's joints popped. He seemed better, and Ratchet was relieved to see those dark blue optics again, and hear that gruff old voice again. Relaxing, Ratchet set his arms back down at on the berth near Ironhide's, optics for a moment staring as if he didn't know what to do or say to the mech that seemed dead not so long ago. Finally, it seemed, the old medic found his vocals enough to give a kind rant to the bed ridden mech.

"Primus, Ironhide," breathed Ratchet, leaning forward as if he still couldn't believe that the mech lying on the med berth was actually awake, "I thought you were _dead_, you know that? We _all_ thought you were dead!" At those words, Ironhide smiled in the dimly lite med bay.

"Nice t' know ya cared, Ratch'," croaked 'Hide in a low voice, obviously straining to merely talk if only to give the medic satisfaction in knowing that he still able to function the way he used to. Having no good retort for that, due to the fact that he was currently too tired, the mech sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair and began messaging his fore helm with a servo; a gesture that usually meant he had a headache, which Ironhide couldn't blame.

"I swear, Ironhide," Ratchet finally sighed after a moment of peace, dropping his servo to look back at the weapons speaclist with a look of grim tired. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that, right?" informed the medic, finally giving a half-hearted smile. Ironhide chuckled.

"Than why d'ya keep me then?" Ironhide asked, trying to sit up; he was stopped from doing so, however, by a light green-yellow servo on his chest that easily pushed him back down without an effort; something that would have been harder had he been at full health.

"Oh no," said Ratchet with a tone in his voice as he stood up. "You're stayin' _right there_ until you get better, you hear me?" Although a question, Ironhide _knew_ that it was an order, and obediently did as he was told; he didn't want a wrench thrown at him, plus, he was comfortable and warm where he was. Picking up an Energon cube from the nearby table, Ratchet said softly, "Here, you've lost a lot of Energon; you need to fill up." Helping the mech keep his helm lifting up with a gentle servo, Ratchet used the other to gently pour the liquid into his friend's waiting mouth.

"Thanks," muttered Ironhide when he pulled back from the empty cube, still trying to swallow some he had in his throat; some drops of Energon slowly scathing down the sides of his cheek. It took all of Ratchet's will power to not upt and wipe it away. Luckily he was caught staring, and Ironhide weakfuly raised a servo to wipe it off.

Ratchet sighed as he sat the empty cube down, turning to walk around the berth and began looking over the machines that were still hooked up to Ironhide. It seemed that Ironhide ran out of anesthetics faster than he had thought; the amount the was still in the machine was not a lot, and the machine had instantly lowered the amount of anesthetics given so it wouldn't run out as fast; and of course, the amount being given at the moment was not enough to keep Ironhide out. Ratchet guessed that he woke up of his own free will since he was no longer in stasis lock; a lot of the smaller open cuts that Ratchet had yet to fix because they were not important were now healed completely, he realized; a few scars here and there from where they were, but still, they were closed up and that made Ratchet feel a _whole _lot better.

"Ratch'?" came the weak voice of the weapons speaclist; Ratchet realized that he had spaced out while thinking and looking over the machines; he hadn't realized that one of his servos had been hovering over one of the machines as well for a few several minutes.

"Hm?" asked the CMO, as if he hadn't heard Ironhide at all, turning around to face him; a pure expression of confusion laid over his facial plates. Ironhide smiled weakfuly at the expression, obviously amused.

"I _said_, ar' ya al'ight?" repeated 'Hide with a light smirk, obviously unable to produce a full smile, tilting his head to one side as if thinking as he asked the question. Ratchet merely swallowed before turning fully towards the injured mech, slight hesitation in his voice.

"I'm…. alright," Ratchet lied, however continued with the truth. "I just….. I haven't been recharging that much since you've been here. I swear, I'm alright?"

"An. how long 'ave ah been out?" questioned Ironhide before the medic could turn around and continue doing his work. Ratchet sighed heavily; why couldn't Ironhide just lay back down and rest some more? Then again, he had a right to what he didn't know, right?

"A couple of orns maybe," Ratchet informed, tiredness slightly edging in his voice. He touched a servo to his fore helm as his helm dipped, optics off lining for a moment. "I-I really cannot remember, Ironhide. I'm honestly sorry. I-I guess my processor is just going on the fritz because of what happened to you, and I just….."

Ratchet didn't finish his sentence, before trying to drop the conversation and turn back to his work, hopeful that Ironhide wouldn't press him any further. However, that was _not_ like Ironhide; nor it would it ever be, for after a moment of silence, 'Hide obviously trying to think up of something to say, or rather trying to recall the events that happened to him not too long ago, he spoke up, as if trying to make the medic feel better.

"Ratch', I.. I… Thanks," Ironhide finally said after not getting the right word in, relaxing a bit more on the med berth. "I-I know I kinda screwed up again, huh? Almost gettin' mahself killed an' all and makin' ev'ryone worry? Betcha Bumblebee was scared a lot, too, huh? Pit, never really thought 'bout him? He al'ight, Ratch'?" Ratchet sighed, before realizing that he wouldn't get much done tonight and merely sat his things on the side table before spinning around on his heel to fact the healing mech.

"He's alright, 'Hide, just got spooked when I told him that he couldn't sleep with you tonight 'cause you were 'sick'," Ratchet explained. When Ironhide opened his mouth to speak, Ratchet cut him off with, "Don't worry, he's staying with Prime, tonight. Primus _knows_ he cannot go into recharge without you or the Prime to _cuddle_ up with him. I swear, it's like you two actually _sparked_ him or something."

At that comment, both mechs smiled; it was quiet strange that, while Bumblebee happily played with all of his caretakers during the day without much fuss about it, and didn't mind taking naps in the rec room or in someone else's berth for a breem or two, when it came down to recharge time in the evening, Bumblebee put up a fuss if he wasn't sharing a berth with Ironhide or Optimus at the moment; anyone else he would give them a pit of a time. Well, unless they happened to be Wheeljack or Ratchet; Wheeljack spoiled, and whenever the sparkling was around the inventor being sparkling sat, 'Jack often played games with him and let him help build stuff - that wouldn't explode - by the end of the day Bumblebee was just too tired to try and put up a fuss not being able to lay down with Ironhide or Optimus. That, and Bumblebee completely _adored_ Wheeljack; the old mech was one of the few that Bumblebee would want to be held by when he first "joined" the Autobots, and Wheeljack treated the sparkling like his own grand-sparkling.

Ratchet, on the other hand, was _way_ more strict, and Bumblebee knew that. Although the sparkling thought it was funny when the medic hit other mechs that came into his med bay if they so angered him, Ratchet could be very scary at times. Therefore, Bumblebee chose not to anger the medic if he was able to choose. Ratchet was usually nice in taking care of him, too; letting him rearrange his tools to make them look nice, or explaining to him each of the tools uses and how they helped his patients. Being a smart little sparkling - or just too much like Ironhide to admit that he was confused and didn't have a _clue_ as to what the medic was saying; or just too nice or afraid to ask Ratchet to explain more about was it was or how it worked - Bumblebee smiled and nodded, seeming to completely understand what Ratchet was saying to him as he gestured each object.

"And I take it everyone else is still worried about me?" Ironhide asked nervously. Trailing away from his thoughts, Ratchet groaned as he rubbed his servo against his fore helm, as if he had a helm ache or something.

"Primus, Ironhide, everyone thought you were _dead_," explained Ratchet, altogether looking serious as he spoke. "They were so worried. _I_ was worried! Primus, Megatron hit you straight on with his Fusion Cannons; what was everyone _supposed_ to expect, that a marical would happen? I'm not a marical worker, Ironhide, you know this!"

"Ratch'…." Ironhide started, a tone and expression passing quickly through him as he watched the almost panicking medic. "Ratchet, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to cause any harm. I was just trying to protect Prime, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Ratch', I get that I-"

"No, Ironhide, you don't get it!" snapped the medic, shaking his helm as for a moment he buried his facial plates in his servos before looking back up, a pure expression of seriousness on his face; his servos never left their place. "Primus, you had everyone worried! Pit, _I_ was worried! You know how it feels thinking that I could easily loose someone, much less someone so fraggin' close to me? It doesn't feel too good Ironhide, it really doesn't. I swear to Primus - I…."

Ratchet groaned again, turning away from the lying and worried form as he shook his helm; he felt exhausted, and he could have gone without his emotions running loose on him. He was over reacting, sure; but he had gone without sleep for what seemed like ever, and his systems were warning of an intimate shut down if he didn't go and get some recharge soon. He heard a movement behind him as he thought, and spun around to see Ironhide weakfuly balancing on his elbows, watching with an expression that told the medic he half expected him to fall over any moment due to the exhaustion he was exerting. There were a few moments that passed by as they stared off, Ratchet looking half royally pissed off as he did so, and Ironhide looking back at him with so much concern that Ratchet didn't have it in him to keep yelling at him; that, and his vocal processors were going hoarse.

"Ratch'," Ironhide said after a moment, obviously contemplating something before scootching over as best he could away from Ratchet on the berth - which wasn't a lot, Ratchet noted - and patted a large part of empty berth near his waist. "Sit down, will ya, Ratch'? Ya look so fraggin' tired. And ah won't take no fer an answer; I won't recharge 'nless you sit down fer a bit, 'kay?"

"'M _not_ exhausted," muttered the medic, however sitting down at the moment _did_ seem like a good idea; his legs felt wobbly, and he didn't know if he could it make around to the chair on the opposite side of the berth, let alone his office. The CMO tried not to stumble as walked over to the berth and carefully sat on it, however made it his business not to sit too close to Ironhide; having to grip the sides so that he would not fall off. "'Sides, someone has to watch over your aft; obviously you can't take care of yourself even in battle."

"Now you know I couldn't let Prime get shot," Ironhide soothed, lying back down on the berth as he elbow joints began to slowly shake and give way due to his own tiredness; however a servo remained near Ratchet's, as if scared that the medic would fall off if he weren't careful. Which he probably would, no doubt. "'Sides, ah knew that yew wouldn't lemme offline, right?" As Ratchet peeked to the mech's face, there was a gentle smile on it that Ratchet couldn't help but return; one that was reassurance enough for Ironhide. "That's what ah thought," said Ironhide hoarsely, leaning up a little, to pat his friend's servo.

_Friends._ That word stalled in Ratchet's processor when it came across it; nothing but friends they would ever be, right? The CMO could feel a few files pop up due to the feelings that flooded through him, yet he did his best to put them aside, and perhaps read them when he had enough time to recharge and had some time alone. Plus, didn't Ironhide basically break up with his ex-bonded not but nine human months ago? Something in the medic's processor told him that perhaps the gruff mech that he now sat beside wasn't ready for anything like that.

Noticing the expression on the medic's face, one that showed fear, sadness, and a hint of worry, Ironhide asked, "Rach', you a'light? Maybe yew shoul' go n' get sume rest, eh?" After a moment, Ratchet shook his helm before trying to speak.

"'Hide, can I ask you something?" the medic asked honestly, tilting his helm to one side as if pondering something.

"Shoot," Ironhide shrugged feebly; the medic cringed slightly at the word, but still proceeded to talk.

"Did you…. Did you mean to take that shot because of something _other_ than trying to protect Prime?" Ratchet asked. A look of confusion washed over Ironhide's face when the question was asked.

"Huh?" he asked simply, as if any other amount of words he would be unable to speak due to his condition. Which Ratchet would call him on later when he was better, none the less; Ratch' was the medic like that.

"Well, I know you broke up with Chromia a long time ago and I didn't know if you'd be-"

"Why th' frag would'ya _think_ sumethin' like tha', Ratch'?" Ironhide cut off in an angered and raised tone, halfly sitting up the best he could. "Why would ah be as stupid as that, huh? I could've done sumethin' as stupid as_ that_, bu' ya know be better, right Ratch'?"

"Sorry I asked," muttered Ratchet as he looked away, slightly hurt by the words Ironhide had spoken. There was a sigh as Ironhide shifted on the bed, scooting his torso at an angle so he was closer to the medic. A servo gently touched his own, trying to show an apology.

"'M sorry, Ratch', but you know me better," apologized Ironhide, not moving his servo away from the medics even as is twitched underneath his; Ratchet's spark did a back flip in his chassis, however he did his best to ignore it. All the CMO would do was nod in agreement; most mechs onboard the Ark about how the two were almost brothers. "Then wha' made ya asked ah question like tha'?" Ironhide pressed on further.

"Guess I'm just tired," he could only shrug, however it was only partly a lie; he was tired, yet he knew better than to believe that his tiredness was the reason that he asked the question. He could remember when Ironhide had came to him after admitting that he and Chromia had been broken up for a couple of weeks and spoke to him about it. Sure, it was mostly about Bumblebee, but he still talked to him about it.

"Tha's not all, is it?" asked Ironhide; what was he, a psychic? "Ya know I'll listen, right? Ya just can't get angry at me falling asleep on ya, a'light?" Ratchet smiled at the comment, looking back up to Ironhide slightly.

"Didn't know I wasn't the only shrink," Ratchet replied in a jokeful tone. "But… you probably wouldn't be interested in what I have to say. Besides, you need to rest, alright?"

"Pffft, please!" laughed the weapons, however the laugh ended in a slight cough. "You know I ain't gonna give up on tryin' t' ask ya, right? 'Sides, ah told ya ah'd fall asleep if you started talkin' an' ya know ah will. It'll help." Ratchet sighed, a small smile growing on his lips. "Now why don't 'cha tell me what's a' matter, huh? Ya know ya tell me anythin', right?" Ratchet merely shook his helm at that statement.

"I don't even think you know the half of it, 'Hide," Ratchet said.

"Try me," said Ironhide strongly; Ratchet quickly giving up because he knew that trying to would simply be a waste of time.

"So, I have this….. Erm, _friend,_" the medic started slowly, the mere sound of the sentence making 'Hide smirk slightly.

"Yeah?" asked Ironhide, urging Ratchet to go on with his little scenario; the medic wondering if Ironhide knew _which_ "friend" he was talking about.

"And he's in love - or at least likes a lot - one of his _best_ friends that he's known for a really long time, right?" Ironhide nodded, however did not say anything in response. "And his best friend, he just broke a bond recently - well not _recently_, but you know, soon enough. But anyways, he just broke this bond, you see, and my friend doesn't want to…. _Ruin_ anything in their current relationship. because he thinks that maybe it's too soon for his friend to get into a relationship."

"And 'ow you know that?" asked Ironhide, shifting on the med berth. "'Ah mean, if yer friend there never asked his bud, then how's he know that his friend _ain't_ ready?"

"Well," Ratchet trailed off, looking down to his legs as he twiddled his servos in between them nervously. "My, erm, _friend_ doesn't know if _his_ friend likes him the say way he's liked his friend." Now _that_ even sounded confusing to _him_. Well, it made sense, but it was still confusing. It seemed to make sense to Ironhide as well, seeing as how he was nodding his helm with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"And can I know who this _friend_ of yours is?" he finally asked curiously, moving slightly on the berth to try and see his friend's optics; failing as Ratchet looked away.

And Ratchet knew that it would be hard to lie on this one, or make up anyone's designations. Wheeljack was one of his best friends, being almost like a brother to him more than anyone on the Ark, and the inventor already had a bonded; Perceptor. Optimus? He was too busy working his aft off as the leader to even _try _and have a love life. Prowl? Already bonded. FirstAid? He was already "dating" Mirage, so that was out. There was no one else he could really think of to fit that hole in the story; he _probably_ should have thought this scenario through. After a few moments of looking to the far wall, Ratchet thought that perhaps Ironhide had finally fallen into recharge, and that he had gotten out of trying to explain anything, however he was quite wrong.

"What? Can't tell me?" Ironhide laughed lightly. "Ya havin' some kind've promise you been needin' t' keep?" When Ratchet didn't response, Ironhide's playful expression fell, and instantly he sat a servo back on the other mech's thigh. "Ratch'? Ya alright? C'mon, if I said somethin' stupid, ya know ya can tell me, right?" Finally, bravely, Ratchet looked the other mech in the optics, his helm slightly hidden between his shoulder blades.

"Well, it's not exactly _that_," muttered the medic, thoughts flooding his through his processor of how to get himself out of this one if Ironhide decided to try and state anything or get anything more out of him. After a moment of studying his friend's face, keeping his optics on it, Ironhide raised an optical ridge, relaxing him helm a bit.

"This _friend_, they really aren't your friend, are they?" asked Ironhide cautiously, a smirk on his lips. Slowly, tiredly, Ratchet shook his helm. Both mechs stayed as they did for several _long_ moments as Ironhide studied his friend's face, thinking hard. "Y-yer talkin' 'bout _you_ bein' tha' friend, right?" asked Ironhide curiously, tilting his helm to one side as best he could on the berth. Again Ratchet nodded his helm.

During a long moment of silence, Ironhide never left Ratchet's tired gaze, as it seemed he was thinking this over. Then after looking down at the berth for a moment, Ironhide looked back up at the medic, a shocked expression on his face that made Ratchet flinch. _Ironhide_ was Ratchet's best friend, the black mech seemed to realize; if _Ratchet_ was speaking about _himself_ in that story, then _that_ meant that the best friend in the story that he had feelings for was….. _Him_. Ratchet instantly looked away after a moment of Ironhide simply staring at him in shock, feeling terrible that he had even said anything to the injured mech in such a state.

"I'm so sorry, Ironhide," Ratchet apologized in a weak voice, looking to the floor as he began to feel shame flood through him; he expected Ironhide to reject him, or at the nicest simply tell him that they were too close as friends to become anything more. However, that was not what he got from the weapons speaclist.

"Why're ya sorry, Ratch'?" asked Ironhide in an obviously confused voice, trying to shift up onto his elbows with little success and enough trouble; the servo on the mech's thigh warming his plating there if ever so slightly. "Th-there's nothin' wrong with cha', right?"

"You don't _get_ it Ironhide, you -!"

And suddenly, Ratchet was lying on something warm, his lips being pressed up against something else just the same. Ratchet was breathing hard now; Ironhide had found the strength to pull the medic down onto him - at least chassis to chassis - pressing his lips against the other, a servo behind the green mech's helm as if to keep him there. At first, Ratchet had panicked; Ironhide was in a weakened and broken state, and wasn't thinking clearly. Then again, neither was he. But as the seconds passed into minutes, Ratchet realized how much his spark was beating against his chassis at the feeling of his lips pressed against another; he hadn't been with another for so long, and kissing Ironhide like this was simply thrilling. And he was sure that the large mech could feel his spark beating against his chassis, just as he could his; Ironhide's beating just as rapidly.

When the kiss was finally broken, both were panting hard, Ratchet's optics still dimmed with tiredness and a new found lust. Ironhide seemed to be searching for something in the medic's optics from his own dimmed ones, panting just as much. There was a long - and seemingly wanted - silence between the two, neither able to speak from their conditions. Finally, Ironhide let out a sigh, one sounding of content, as his frame relaxed underneath the slightly smaller mech's.

"_Wow_," was all the weapons speaclist could say as he dropped his helm back onto his pillow, his mouth curving up into a small smile. "That was just…. _Wow_."

"You know this _technically_ means I could get you for rape, right?" asked Ratchet with a raised optic ridge, a smile playing on his face plates to match that of the other mechs. Ironhide's smile merely enlarged at the statement.

"Who says it was _unwanted_?" asked Ironhide slyly. Ratchet could only smile back in response; it wasn't like he wasn't hoping for some moment like this. Well, not _exactly_ like this, not imagining that Ironhide would have been hurt the way he had. After another moment of simply staring in something equivalent to bliss, Ratchet sighed.

"So… you…?" Ratchet started slowly, as if unable to get any words out. Yet Ironhide seemed to understand with what little words Ratchet had used.

"It ain't like ah' would go kissin' a mech fer no good reason," replied Ironhide softly, reaching the servo still placed down to cup the medic on the cheek. "Tha', an' I would'a felt bad jus' leavin' ya all alone like that. Did ah' mention tha' yer cute when yer dazed?" That statement earned the injured mech a light and playful thump to the helm, making him merely laugh lightly and weakly at the movement; it seemed that now he was finally getting tired enough to fall asleep. Ratchet merely sighed; did this mean that they were….?

"Ironhide?" asked Ratchet quietly, earning the mech's slowly deteriorating attention as he tried his best to not fall asleep on the medic. "Does… Does this mean that we're… A _thing? Because if you're not ready - and I don't think that you are - then you can just -"_

"_Shh," Ironhide shushed, gently placing weak servos on the back of the medic's helm and gently guiding said helm to his own neck as a resting place for it. "We can talk 'bout this in the morning' 'kay? Fer now, I think any talkin' will ruin the moment. Care t' stay 'ere t'night?"_

_Ironhide was right; it was late, he was tired, and 'Hide was injured and probably more tired than he was. Plus, he was in a pretty comfortable position at the moment, laying on the larger mech with warmth emanating from him. Shifting into a more comfortable position on the mech, Ratchet muttered something sleepily - it sounded like "G'night" to Ironhide - before off lining his optics, most likely falling asleep quite instantly. Sighing in content, Ironhide relaxed himself as well, feeling bad that he hadn't at least tried to get Ratchet under the blankets with him. But he seemed pretty comfortable at the moment, and he didn't want to ruin a good night's sleep for him. So, off lining his own optics, Ironhide soon followed suit with Ratchet, glad that the throbbing in his spark had settled down while being so close to the medic; and he was also glad that Ratchet had been able to tell the truth about his feelings - with enough push - because truth was the Ironhide himself might have been unable._


	3. Part Three

Ratchet woke up feeling strangely rejuvenated and in a strange warmth; at first, he couldn't move his limbs, and for a moment nearly panicked, wondering how in the pit this could happen, and where he was. But as his optics onlined, he slowly calmed himself down. He was staring into a dark neck, a heavy chin resting against him, with two strong arms keeping him arm. Ironhide must have helped him all the way onto the berth, or rather Ratchet had done so himself during the night prior; Ratchet was curled onto the large frame, totally relaxed and quite happy. Slowly, the medic tried to recall the events that had led up to this moment, and remembered easily; did Ironhide _really_ love him the way Ratchet loved the trigger happy weapons speaclist? Of course he did, or he wouldn't be holding him like this, nor would he have kissed him that night so passionately. [At least Ratchet had felt some passion in it.]

Groaning, Ratchet shifted around carefully in the tight he was in; he and the weapons speaclist had been sleeping chassis to chassis, it seemed, and Ratchet used the opportunity in order to prop himself up on the broad chassis to look at the other mech; tight arms slowly sidling down his back strut as he did so. Ironhide was, of course, still asleep, having been recovering from the brutal hit he had taken not two orns prior. He had to admit, Ironhide looked handsome even in his sleep; that deep set jaw, pig nose, broad chest, amongst other things. Ratchet stretched and yawned, however tried to make as little movement as possible, wanting Ironhide to get his rest. Which would prove to be tough, of course; the medic had to get up and start his duties, seeing as how it was early morning, and _someone_ would need in to get repairs. That, and FirstAid usually showed up before all that happened. But that seemed like something too far for the medic's reach; Ironhide had a tight grip on him, even in his recharging state.

Ratchet sighed, letting his helm thump against one of the mech's broad shoulders in a tired attempt at not wanting to give up just yet; this was going to be one of the _longest_ battles he had ever had. Slowly, Ratchet shifted on the mech below him, trying not to hurt him more because of all of those sores spots that he most likely still had. However, just as it seemed Ratchet was going to get away, his legs currently straddling the mech as his new lover's arms slowly lifted up with his body, luck proved him wrong; with a sleepy grunt, the recharging mech began trying to tug the moving mech back down on him, as if he didn't want him to leave anytime soon. Not like Ratchet_ wanted_ to; but, as stated before, he did have duties to do, and he didn't want anyone - much less FirstAid, who was jumpy and often easily freaked out to begin with - to walk in on them in such as state and assuming anything.

After what seemed like vorns, Ratchet finally escaped his prison-like state; barely waking up the mech he had been lying on. Smiling, Ratchet had to admit that Ironhide also looked cute as he slept. Gently, the medic moved the mech's arms under the blanket as he pulled it up to the larger mech's neck, making sure that he was warm before he went around trying to do his duties as silently as possible. He hadn't been able to wake up the sleeping mech, Ironhide only having moved a little bit as he worked.

Strangely, Ratchet felt more recharged than usual. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been sleeping in the same berth with someone, feeling their warmth and feeling it comforting. Ratchet smiled to himself as he silently worked; he was glad to at least have had that, even if Ironhide would deny anything that had happened the night prior, or might have forgotten. Not like he would have; Ironhide was a great mech, and as Ratchet thought about it, he knew in his spark that in the past he had done a lot to seemingly make the medic happy, even if then it might have been in a best friend way or not. Which was why he had practically fallen in love with the mech in the first place. It was just too bad that he had to wait this long, of course.

FirstAid came in at his usual time, asking what he could do to help Ironhide, and asking Ratchet if he needed any help. Finally, the medic sent the trainee away to Prowl; the med bay was in need of more supplies, and he knew that 'Aid was capable of getting the report to the second in command so that way they could get those needed items. Not many mechs came into the med bay after that; Mirage complaining about a constantly hurting arm joint, and Kup with a hurting neck joint. Finally, at around noon, Ironhide was beginning to stir on the berth he occupied; just as Ratchet had settled to sitting on a berth nearby reading a really good Datapad, too.

"Ratch'?" croaked the broad mech in a worried voice upon realizing that the medic was not longer lying with him - nor on him - on the berth; his servos moving around his chassis before hazily looking around the room for the other mech.

"Relax, 'Hide," chuckled Ratchet smoothly, sliding off of the berth as he sat his Datapad down, making his way around to check on the injured mech's vital signs. Ironhide seemed to stare at him for a moment as he moved, before realizing who he was and relaxed back onto the berth as he had been.

"Why'd'ya leave?" Ironhide practically whined, trying to hold back a smile as he tried his best to pout, watching Ratchet mess with a few scanners needed to check the mech over. "And 'ere 'ah thought tha' you'd be comfy an' all."

"Oh trust me, Ironhide," chuckled the medic, shifting on his on his peds in an unnervous fashion as he looked over the results that he was getting, "I was _quite_ comfortable alright. I just needed to get my work done, thank you very much."

Smiling, Ironhide had no comeback for that; Ratchet had _rarely_ stopped him from his work, so why would he? But he had enjoyed the other mech's company while sleeping that prior night, and wondered if he would ever be able to share a berth with him like that again, seeing as he had his sparkling to care for to begin with. But that would be discussed at a later date.

"I hope you don't mind," stated Ratchet as he set the pads down, stretching as he yawned; walking over to the berth while Ironhide regarded him as he stretched, "but since you're quite well enough at the moment, I've invited a little someone to come and visit you for a little while today." Ratchet slowly made his way onto the berth, sitting on the edge, as a smirk came upon Ironhide's lips.

"Now Ratchet, ah know ah'm feelin' better an' all, buh don'cha think we're goin' a lil' too _fast_ for all ah -"

"Not _that_, you idiot," laughed Ratchet as he gently tapped Ironhide on the helm. "I meant _Bumblebee_; Jazz said he was asking for you, and wouldn't stop putting up a fight with Optimus last night because he wanted to see you."

Ironhide relaxed; well, at least he knew that his sparkling was well and all. Why _wouldn't_ he be; the fragger was more taken care of than any warrior on the Ark, and was probably one of the happiest on board, too; well, somewhat, seeing as everybody's moods would change drastically without the little hyper minibot running ragged all over the place. And to think that he had been so weak and fragile when they had first found him; oh, how times change.

"When's he comin'?" croaked the weapons speaclist as he relaxed, making Ratchet smiled lightly.

"Some time this afternoon," explained Ratchet as he pushed himself off of the berth. "He didn't sleep much last night, so Jazz was hoping to get him a nap in before he came."

Ironhide smiled, almost a little too proudly, at the thought of Bumblebee actually managing to keep up the Prime half the night; to not be able to recharge _without his guardian or Optimus was one thing, but to simply not to recharge at all the with Prime was another. Optimus was like his giant play toy that would do anything for the sparkling; then again, that seemed like anyone on the Ark. But the Prime seemed more wrapped around the sparkling's finger than anyone else. _

_Not as much as Ironhide was, but almost._


	4. Part Four

It was another good hour before the sparkling was ever brought in, and it was the strangest site to see, seeing as how Ironhide had heard that that sparkling had been fussy and wouldn't take anything from anyone until he saw his guardian. Jazz was the one who brought the little bugger in, holding him up to his chassis. Bumblebee was leaned against it, optics hazy and his whole frame relaxed as if he could no longer hold himself up. Then again, even Optimus couldn't get him to sleep the night prior, so of course he had been tired. Ratchet had been working on cleaning off his tools when Jazz let himself in; the good - although to Ratchet terrible - thing about being third in command was that you could get nearly any entrance code for almost any room on the Ark. Ironhide instantly lifted his helm when he heard the doors open, obviously expecting the third in command and the sparkling to enter at any moment; when he realized that he was right, a smile donned itself onto his lips, making Ratchet smile as well.

"Didn't get much of sleep other than a wink last night," informed Jazz as strided to the berth that Ironhide laid on; Bumblebee obviously not realizing that he was in the same room as the gruff mech, mostly because he was so tired. "Might not get much outta 'im t'day, but 's worth a try." Ironhide merely smiled more, before leaning to one side to get a better look at the sparkling, scooting up on the berth to a slight sitting up position from the pillows behind his helm.

"Well who d' we 'ave 'ere?" he asked, not even bothering to respond to Jazz; the statement to the sparkling was enough for the silver mech, it seemed, as he looked down while the sparkling stirred.

Bumblebee whined slightly as he pushed himself off of Jazz's chassis, rubbing his optics slightly as he tried to wake himself up. He didn't seem too happy that someone had spoke so loudly and in turn woke him up from his slumber as if he were about to cry because he had been woken up in the first place. But he was a curious mechling, and wearily leaned over his current care taker's arms, one servo grabbing onto Jazz's forearm as he peeked his helm over. There was a moment of simply staring at Ironhide with a tired and blank expression, whistle Ratchet had to hold back a smirk and Jazz a chuckle, before the sparkling's optics whined when he realized who was staring back up at him.

"'Hide!" he instantly squeaked, nearly falling out of Jazz's grasp as he tried to reach down and lean down in order to try and get to his guardian, obviously excited to see that he was awake.

"Easy now," Jazz finally laughed as he gently let the sparkling down onto the larger mech's chassis, Bumblebee kicking his peds slightly while he was in mid air, however careful enough not to kick his guardian, as if afraid that he would hurt him.

When he was placed down, Bumblebee instantly scattered up to his guardian's neck, and, collapsing onto his neck and upper chassis, wrapped his small arms around him and buried his face into his neck and face. Ironhide instantly - and carefully - wrapped his own arms around the sparkling, engulfing him in his mass with a smile.

"No need to worry about waiting around, Jazz," informed Ratchet as he got back to work. "I can call 'Sides and 'Sunny to come pick him up when he's done here, alright?"

"Al'ight," Jazz said as he turned to leave. "See ya, Ratch'! See ya 'Hide! Have fun, 'Bee!" Both mechs said their goodbyes, however Bumblebee refused to move from his spot form being close to his guardian again.

The silence lasted forever, minus the clanking of tools and the running of cleaning solution and water that Ratchet was using. The only other noise was that of Bumblebee's slight whining as he stayed curled up into his guardian, as if he was afraid that he would die any moment if he didn't stay with him. Ratchet smiled; to think, a sparkling like him, so small and fragile, belonged to a rough and tough aft kicking weapons speaclist. They were strangely good together, and Ironhide had always been so careful with such a small mechling that it surprised anyone who knew the top kick how careful he was with the sparkling; as if afraid that any move would break him if he did something wrong, or if he dropped him the wrong way or at all. He was also always the first to become angered if something happened to his charge that could have been easily avoided, at least to him.

Ratchet knew that he would have to start putting up with that Bumblebee more often now that he and Ironhide had at least talked something out; Ironhide had honestly liked Ratchet for a while now, even while with Chromia, and was one of the secret reasons he had broken their bond. Why be with one when you had developed feelings for another? Ironhide had almost felt bad that Ratchet had liked him so much longer, and that he wasn't able to tell him after so many vorns of knowing him and working with him. 'Hide had promised that he would make it up to him, however he couldn't guess what that he would be doing for him to make it up.

It was true that Ratchet adored the sparkling Ironhide had watched over for so long; Bumblebee had everyone on board the Ark and then some wrapped around his little finger, and he was their pride and joy when it came to anything. And he knew that Bumblebee knew that as well, even if he was being scorned for something that he did wrong. It was a comical thing, really; 'Bee knew that as long as it wasn't outrageous, he could often get anything he wanted with a bat of an eyelash, as one may say. And most of the mechs on board would let him get away with murder; mostly Ironhide, but still. Ratchet barely twitched when he heard the sparkling finally shift and speak.

Sniffling, Bumblebee moved and shifted until his helm was under his guardian's chin, simply lying there for a few more clicks before asking, "You okay now, Hide?" Ironhide merely smirked and tightened his grip slightly on the sparkling.

"Fer now, little one, yes," he replied. Bumblebee instantly lifted his helm to give his guardian a slightly menacing look; Ironhide having to hold back a laugh by biting his bottom lip at the look.

"But yew promised yew'd always come back, right?" asked the sparkling, still keeping his gaze. Ironhide finally gave an exhausted sigh and let his helm fall to one side, before looking back up at the sparkling.

"Would 'ah ever lie t' ya 'bout that?" he asked, finally making the sparkling pout. Ironhide had to hold back a smile at the face, knowing the sparkling would probably get mad at him for doing so.

"No," Bumblebee finally answered slowly, now uneasily holding back his own smile; a corner of his lips twitching upwards.

"That's what I thought," said the weapons speaclist.

And then suddenly, the Sparkling was lifted up before being brought back down, Ironhide blowing "raspberries" on his stomach plates before lifting him back up and repeating the process. Bumblebee let out a screeching laugh, often hitting his guardian's helm when able to. Ratchet thought about ending the fun early, however held back the thought; better to leave it go on for a few more clicks than to hear about it later, right?


End file.
